


Say Geronimo

by ElevenGaleStorms



Series: Alouette [7]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Soulmate AU, Wound AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 23:18:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElevenGaleStorms/pseuds/ElevenGaleStorms
Summary: Arno had a hard time trusting in those around her. At least that was true until she met her soulmate. Ironic, because he was the one who caused the most pain.





	Say Geronimo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492/gifts).



> A one-shot on what if Alouette was a soulmate AU.

If you asked a young Arno in her childhood about her soulmate, she would smile bitterly before saying one thing:

 

**She hated her soulmate.**

 

A simple fact of life that was.

Her supposed other half had made Arno an outcast in her own family. Almost every day in her childhood would a wound suddenly appear and she would bleed out. As such, a maid usually was on standby outside her room to stop the bleeding.

Arno cursed her soulmate for doing this to her. Admittedly, she was selfish for thinking only of herself. But still weren’t they both being selfish by only thinking of themselves.

Arno could still remember the first time she actually got a scar from her ‘soul’ wounds…

 

_Arno was playing with a doll her father got her. A simple one it was with only modest decorations on it._

 

_She had named the doll Mary._

 

_Suddenly, Arno felt a sharp pain in her shoulder and the cool sensation of liquid on her skin. Curious, she put a hand to where the sensation was, her shoulder she idly remembered and found her hand covered with red._

 

_And then Mary became Bloody Mary._

* * *

Her father couldn’t bear to even look at her as scars became even more frequent on her face. Children would cry at the sight of her face.

A scar crossed over her right eye and another across the bridge of her nose and cheek.

‘How superficial can this world be?’ was what Arno thought. Because, yes, the pure, untainted innocence of a child had pulled the wool over her eyes.

At least until she was given to the Templars for a deal. Then, she realized the truth. Her world was a cruel one with its rules and expectations.

As she stood in front of her soulmate years later, a hysterical laugh bubbled out of her lips. Who knew that her other half was a Templar? That would explain all the wounds and scars she garnered.

Not that she was complaining. Arno had power over Shay Cormac and she wasn’t afraid to use it. If there was one thing that she learned from her experiences in life, it was to use power when you still had it.

“I hate you.” Arno spat out. Shay looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on his eyes.

“I’m… sorry, lass.” She trembled in anger. Did he even know what he had to her? This man thought that an apology could suddenly fix everything. A childhood lost and the disdain of the world at her.

“What you put me through is unforgivable.” Shay didn’t flinch. He coolly looked at her.

“Are you done, now? I cannot give back what you’ve lost.” Irrational anger flooded her. His calmness just stoked the rage in her.

“You’re right,” She agreed, “But you can help me avenge.”

* * *

Arno stared in disbelief at the man in front of her. He wanted her to do what?

“You heard me. Jump.” the man smirked. He was such a-

“You can do it, lass. I’ll be right here beside you.” Everyone lies about that, Arno thought. No one ever stuck beside her in times of need even Elise.

“Don’t give me false promises.” Arno hissed out. Shay’s smile disappeared from his lips. With eyes as dark as the robes he wore, the Assassin Hunter walked towards her and looked her straight in the eyes,

“I may do many things. But I will never lie to you.” And somehow Arno believed him.

She took a breath and stood on the wooden plank sticking past the edge of the ground.

Arno felt the sensation of scratching on her skin.

 

_TRUST ME_

 

Painless red lines on her skin they were.

 

**Painless.**

 

Regardless of her mixed emotions towards her mentor, Arno decided that maybe she could trust him.

And so she dove into the waterfall.

* * *

If you asked Arno five years from then if she still hated Shay Patrick Cormac, she would reply with a shrug and say ‘that it was none of you business’ as well as some other impolite words.

A touchy subject for her, some would say.

Shay helped her achieve her vengeance. She killed those who got in her way and finally achieved the mockery of closure she sought.

Redemption was her new goal now.

Guilt still plagued her. The lifeless yet ever so hateful eyes of Gabriel and the rest of her mentors haunted her dreams.

Never Bellec though.

She didn’t regret sending that bastard to-

A familiar hand suddenly planted itself on her shoulder, “Are you done brooding yet? We’re leaving soon.”

“You know that I like to ponder, Shay,” she replied. The Irishman sighed dramatically. His fingers idly traced the scars on her arms. She shivered at the feeling.

No one except him had ever done that without the dreaded look of disgust or pity. Even Gabriel never did that as it seemed like he couldn’t bear the memories of such pain on her arms.

Maybe, this was why her hate of her mentor ended and… something else began.

After she apprenticed under him, an understanding eventually developed between them. What kind it was, she didn’t know at the time.

Now, she knew.

It was something born out of the experience of feeling each other’s pain. They couldn’t argue about not feeling what the other felt. Because it was literally impossible for them not too.

“Come on, lass. It’s time to go.” Arno took one last breath of air that wasn’t filled with the scent of saltwater. She took a glance at her companion. Her eyes softened minutely.

Yes, they had a relationship built on understanding and mutual pain.

She took his offered rough hand into her own scarred one.


End file.
